All The Time
by SkyLight184
Summary: He hadn't meant to turn a taunt into a promise, and he hadn't meant to break that promise. Their tale told through flashback snippets. Rated for slight language and death, Dramione. OneShot.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. I just like to take a few characters out and play with them from time to time.  
**Summary:** He hadn't meant to turn a taunt into a promise, and he hadn't meant to break that promise. Their tale told through flashback snippets. Rated for slight language and death, Dramione. OneShot.  
**AN:** This is the by product of me having a far-too-in-depth-about-the-future conversation with my other half and me listening to the classical piano station on Pandora. I also blame heightened emotions- I watched Pearl Harbor, Armageddon, and Frozen today. I've been crying like a friggin waterfaucet and I haven't stopped all day. So now you all get this fluffy crap. I apologize in advance if it's utter mediocrity. I wrote it in one go, with no real thought behind it, because I damn well wanted to. So there. Enjoy!

* * *

_"Tell me again how you and Père fell in love."_

_ "Again?"_

_ "Please, Mummy."_

_ "Yes Mummy, it's so romantic!"_

_ "You both have heard this story too many times."_

_ "Please Mummy, just once more."_

_ "Please!"_

* * *

Her books were spread across the hallway, precious hardback copies of numerous texts splayed open on the wide stone corridor. Her boys were gaping in horror at the sight before them, anger rising in their cheeks as their defenses fell out of their mouths. She bent to the floor, carefully collecting each tome as if it were a sacred babe. Seven in all, cradled into her chest by loving arms. She turned then, to the hateful person who had nearly brought her books to ruin and leveled her most chilling glare in his direction.

"What else have you got, Malfoy?" Her challenge was met with a smirk most wicked, moonlight silver eyes flashing with hatred and malice.

"For you, Mudblood, I've all the time in the world."

* * *

_"Père was a good man, right Mummy?"_

_ "Of course he was, darling! What makes you think he wasn't, hmm?"_

_ "I heard Uncle Ron say Père was a git!"_

_ "A slimy git!"_

_ "A good for nothing git!"_

_ "Loves, please! Your father was a good man. Uncle Ron is just…hung up on the past."_

_ "So Père was mean to you once?"_

_ "More than once, dear."_

_ "But you loved him anyway?"_

_ "It took time."_

* * *

She felt like crying as the ink spilled from its pot and onto her parchment, her efforts of the last three months ruined by a careless and flippant hand gesture. A sneering face chuckled down at her darkly as she lifted her head to her tormentor with tears balancing on her lower lashes. She would not cry in front of him, she would not give him the sick satisfaction of knowing that he had most effectively destroyed her day.

"Pity, eh Granger?" He nudged his eyebrows up into his hairline as his gaze fell on her parchment. "Looks like that must have taken some time to put together."

"Not a worry, Malfoy." Her whisper was soft but cold, her smile laced with loathing. "I just so happen to have a spare at home." Victory reigned in her mind as she watched the brief flash of heated anger dart across his features. "What else have you got, Malfoy?"

"For you, Mudblood, I've all the time in the world." He swept out of her office with a final searing snarl and a whip of his expensive robes. He cast one last look over his shoulder, eyes narrowed hatefully at her.

She just smiled on.

* * *

_"Uncle Ron said it again! And Uncle Harry too!"_

_ "Stop your wailing, sweetheart. What did they say?"_

_ "That Père was hurtful to you!"_

_ "And that he called you nasty names!"_

_ "Hush, love. People come up with all sorts of names for other people."_

_ "But they said it was awful!"_

_ "It was, baby, for the longest time. But it doesn't matter now, alright?"_

_ "Because you loved each other?"_

_ "And he stopped calling you mean things?"_

_ "That's right, my darlings. That's right."_

* * *

"We'll never finish this report if you don't stop bloody revising the fucking thing."

"Your language is revolting."

"No, your hair is revolting. My language is a consequence of my surroundings."

"Your upbringing, more like."

"I'll have you know my language is impeccable when I need it to be."

"Oh, like how? When you attend secret Dark meetings and do ritualistic sacrifices at Stonehenge?"

"We hold them at the Tower, if you so please." He sneered mightily at her then and snatched the report from her hands, eyes raking over her revisions. She watched, amused, as he tried to find something to nitpick. He rolled his eyes and thrust the parchment back into her grasp when he came up short. "Just sign the bloody thing so we can move on to the next one. I'd rather not spend four hours on the next case for goblin rights or whatever the fuck it is."

"I won't just sign it and move on without making sure everything is in its proper place, Malfoy."

"For heaven's sake, woman! It's bloody perfect as it is! You wrote the goddamned thing, you should know!"

"Are you saying my work is superior to yours?"

"Not in a million years." He scoffed at the preposterous idea and she sighed, flipping through several sheets of paper to find one that hadn't already been retouched. He groaned, flopping dramatically in his chair as she set about scratching through words and replacing them.

"Besides, you brought these to me with explicit instructions to look over them after you added your piece. Won't have you running around saying that I didn't do my job properly." She reminded him. He simply glared at her through eyes hidden behind a fringe of white blond bangs, remaining silent on the subject since she had him cornered. Nearly an hour later she sat up straight and handed the report back to him. "What else have you got, Malfoy?"

"For you, Granger, I've all the time in the world." He gathered his papers and stuffed them back into his briefcase, his usual parting comment received with a look of surprise. He paused, uncertain. "What?"

"You called me Granger. Not Mudblood." She didn't miss the way his cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink nor the way he suddenly seemed more interested in anything in the room other than her face. It lasted for ten seconds before his mask was back and he smirked at her.

"Consider it my good deed for the month."

* * *

_"Do you think I'll grow up to look like Père?"_

_ "I'm most certain you will! You'll be tall as he was, for sure."_

_ "What about me, Mummy?"_

_ "His eyes, darling, you have his eyes."_

_ "What did you like most about Père?"_

_ "That's an unfair question, love. I liked everything most about your father."_

* * *

It was near Christmas time when the Ministry usually held their annual Gala. They called it the Winter Extravaganza, as if they needed an excuse for the event to be even more hyped up in the press than it normally was. She dreaded going, as it meant she had to dance with several people that she never wished to interact with, and that she had to deal with the onslaught of gossip that would undoubtedly revolve around her showing up stag yet again.

How tragic, they would say, for the female third of the Golden Trio to be closing in on twenty five years of age with no real love life.

How absolutely dreadful, the columnists would write, that Harry and Ron had been successful not only in their careers but in their romantics pursuits and left her behind, unmarried and unloved.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her burgundy colored gown, a sweeping number that gathered on one shoulder and fell regally in a Grecian style. The bodice was fitted superbly to her torso, however, and accentuated that she still had a few curves to throw out there.

"You look lovely, Hermione." Harry complimented her as she took her turn on the dance floor with him. She smiled demurely and reciprocated the sentiment, noting that Ginny must have taken extra time to flatten his hair as best she could.

"You know, Cormac was asking if you were still around and- OW!" Ron hopped briefly on one foot after she finished slamming her heel into his toes. She tightened her grip on his hand and he shot her a sheepish smile. She had warned him more than once to keep out of her love life.

She had just fetched her third glass of champagne when she felt him approach. She could always feel him, like some sort of dark cloud just waiting to rain on her parade.

"Hardly recognized you, Granger." She downed the rest of her champagne and offered him a sickeningly sweet smile. That smile severely faltered, however, when his hand covered hers as it lay curled around the champagne flute, holding the glass in place as he poured her another serving. She took a sip, shaking, and met his eyes. "You know how to waltz, I presume?"

"Excuse me?" And then the glass was plucked from her grip and her hand fell in his like the cliché puzzle piece, and his other hand felt hot but gentle on her waist as they spun into step on the dance floor. She moved like water and he like wind, gliding effortlessly through the turns and spins of the dance. She wasn't aware of how close he was holding her, how his hand had slipped from her waist to the sway of her back as they moved in tandem.

But when the song ended, as the music trailed off into something much slower and much more intimate than the waltz they had just finished, reality crashed through her hazy mind and she found, to her utmost dismay, that it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be.

And so she tightened her hold on his hand, refusing to let him retreat.

"What else have you got, Malfoy?" Her undertone was light and teasing, and she knew she was blushing and she shouldn't be, but the champagne had been bubbly and the music was enchanting and he cut a fine figure in well-tailored black robes that clung to sinewy lines she didn't know he had. He smirked back at her and rewrapped her waist in one arm, taking the time to thread their fingers together as well.

"For you, Granger, I've all the time in the world."

* * *

_"Mummy, do you ever wish Père could be back here?"_

_ "All the time, darling. All the time."_

_ "I do too. Sometimes it feels like he'll come home from work at night and tuck me in again."_

_ "Sometimes I think I can smell his hotcakes in the morning."_

_ "Père always made the best breakfasts."_

_ "Yes, he did, didn't he?"_

* * *

"It's bad luck to see the bride on our wedding day, you know."

"Granger, I am half naked and bringing you breakfast in bed, this is hardly the time to be spewing old wives' tales at your intended." He set the tray of two plates and glasses across her lap as she sat up against the pillows. "Most women would be swooning and well on their way to being as undressed as I am, you know."

"Unlucky for you, I'm not most women." She giggled and popped a curiously large strawberry into her mouth, one hand cupped under her chin to catch the excess juice. He crawled onto the mattress, scooting as close as possible to her so they could share the food he had cooked.

"I'm rather glad of that." He said, a handful of blueberries cascading into his mouth. He chewed for a moment and then grinned at her, his teeth stained a shade of dark blue. She laughed gleefully, leaning her head against his bare shoulder. "Try the eggs. I took your mother's advice and added a dash of milk to make them a bit fluffier."

"Why, Mr. Malfoy, are you saying that you learned something from a Muggle?"

"Well, soon-to-be Mrs. Malfoy, I believe I am." He kissed the top of her head and hefted a forkful of the discussed food towards her lips. "Now open up. I'm going to make it my life's mission to make sure you're well and fat so no one tries to steal you away from me."

"That's horrid!" She laughed again and he took the opportunity to shove the eggs into her mouth. She glared at him for a moment but hummed in delight at the tastes flooding her senses. He just nodded, highly satisfied with himself.

"That's what I thought." He took a smug bite of his stack of hotcakes, slathered in rich syrup, and tried his best not to look too pleased. She stilled, swallowing the last of the eggs, and folded her hands in her lap.

"After all, it's not like you're going to have to try too hard to make me swell up like a bloody balloon."

"What's that?"

"Give or take another six months, I should be large as a house." His fork clattered on the china plate, sharp silver eyes honing in on her face as she spoke. She blushed, looking down at the comforter that covered her lower body.

"You…You're serious?" His question was a ghost of a whisper. She nodded and finally met his eyes, hesitant. The tray was overturned, syrup and fruit and orange juice spilling over and staining the sheets as he tackled her to the mattress. He showered her face and neck with kisses, his hands coming to gently cup her cheeks as he pressed one, two, three hard but sweet kisses to her lips.

Seven hours later, as they stood hand in hand before a rather large crowd of attendees, she reached the end of her vows and looked up at him with tears on her lashes.

"What else have you got for me, Draco?"

"For you, Hermione, I've all the time in the world."

He didn't bother waiting for after they exchanged rings to bring his hands to her face again, cupping her cheeks just as gently as he had that morning as his mouth melded to hers for three more kisses.

* * *

_"Mum, do you think Père misses us?"_

_ "I'm willing to bet he does."_

_ "I miss Père all the time, Mummy. Every day."_

_ "So do I, sweetheart."_

_ "Sometimes, Mummy, when I feel upset, I just talk out loud, because Père did that sometimes and I think it made him feel better and when I do it, I think he's listening."_

_ "That's why I like the piano, Mum, because Père taught me to play a little bit."_

_ "You're both too sweet, angels. Too sweet."_

* * *

"I'm rather glad you aren't cursing my name anymore." He brushed a kiss across her forehead, ignoring the sweat on her brow.

"I'm sorry about your hand."

"No you aren't." He laughed and held up the bandaged limb in discussion. "The Medi-Witch was a little surprised when I told her how I managed to crack three bones, though. She commends you on your strength and told me to remind you to lay off the grip when you're dealing with the children."

"You're impossible."

"Perhaps, but you love me anyway."

"I do." She sighed then and looked at the bundles in her arms, her face creasing with worry. He brushed her hair back, fingers teasing through the curly brown locks in adoration. "They need names, don't you think?"

"I was quite alright with calling them Boy and Girl forever, you know."

"Your mother would murder you. In your sleep. With your favorite pillow." She rolled her eyes at him and passed the blue bundle to him carefully. "I'll pick her first name and his middle name. You can pick her middle name and his first name."

"That sounds fair." He backed up until his knees hit the edge of a chair and he sank down into it, peering at the wide awake yet startling quiet child in his arms.

"Did you want to continue the constellation theme?"

"Mother wants to but…" He sighed and shrugged noncommittally. "It's up to you, I suppose."

"Draco."

"Oh alright." He rolled his eyes again. "It would be nice, I guess."

"Would be nice, he says." She mumbled to the sleeping baby girl in her arms. "As if he hasn't been pouring over every astrological text he can get his hands on to find a suitable name."

"Hey you, shut up." He stuck his tongue out at her and turned his attention back to his son, his face softening. When he spoke again, it was a whisper. "I did always like the name Scorpius."

"Scorpius…" She trailed off, a small and soft smile curving her mouth. She nodded then. "I like it." She looked at the sleeping girl and then to her husband. "Vela."

"The sail?" He pursed his lips, craning his neck to get a better look at his daughter. "I could see that. Vela and Scorpius." He broke into a wide grin, a contagious one from the way she lit up instantly. "As for their middle names-"

"Hyperion." She blushed and he gave pause, cocking his head to one side. "If it's too pretentious-"

"The high one." He considered it for a moment and then nodded definitively. "Scorpius Hyperion it is, then." He sat back in his chair, his eyes closed in thought as he ransacked his brain for another name.

"I don't know what would go well with-"

"Rhea." He said suddenly, sitting up straight in his chair again. "Another Titan, sibling to Hyperion, and mother of the Olympians. I think it's perfect."

"Vela Rhea." She mumbled. A startled gasp escaped her mouth when the infant girl opened her eyes, as if she had heard the name and declared it as her own. "I'll take that as a good sign."

"So that's settled then." He closed his eyes again, intent on catching a tiny nap. He could almost hear the moment her mouth opened and he beat her to the punch. "For you, love, and these children, I've all the time in the world."

* * *

_"It's time to go, Mum. It's nearly night."_

_ "I don't know."_

_ "We've never missed a year, Mummy. Not once."_

_ "I know, darling, but I just…I almost don't want to. I don't know if I can this year."_

_ "Of course you can, Mum."_

_ "We'll be with you, just like always."_

_ "Père will haunt you forever if you miss it today."_

_ "Don't say such things, Scorpius."_

_ "He's right, Mummy. Père would be most upset if you don't show up on the anniversary."_

_ "Your father always did have a morbid sense of humor."_

_ "Come on Mum. Just a quick stop in and it'll be done."_

_ "Fine. Vela, grab my coat, please."_

* * *

She had been sitting in the front room when the wards around the manor suddenly constricted. She sat up a little straighter and when the heat from the wards became unbearable across her neck and shoulders, she dropped the book she had been reading and went scurrying into the Floo Room to find Harry Potter's head bobbing in the flames.

"Oh thank Merlin you're home! Thought you took the kids out." He looked haggard and his glasses were sitting crooked on his face. "There's been an accident at the office."

"Where's Draco?" She dropped to her knees and half shouted at the fireplace. Harry winced.

"In St. Mungo's." She was on her feet again in a flash, screaming for the children to come down from their playroom and put their coats on immediately. The twins came running, knowing the tone their mother was using to be her no-nonsense voice, and within two minutes all three of them were whisked away by Floo to the waiting room of St. Mungo's.

Harry greeted them at the reception desk, one arm going around her shoulders as he nodded to his wife. Ginny nodded back and took the twins under her arms, steering them towards a pair of chairs.

"He took most of the blast, and it's not pretty, Hermione."

"I want to see him." She said stubbornly, clinging to her best friend's hand with all of her strength. Harry sighed but kept walking, eventually pushing open one door into a bright white room with a single bed. A tiny cry escaped her lips and she rushed to the side of the bed, her hands light as feathers as she touched her husband.

Grey eyes slowly opened and she choked back a sob or two, her smile beyond broken as she read the underlying statement in his stare.

"Oh, Draco, no. Please." She rarely begged but she was an expert at it now, both of her hands wrapped around his uninjured fingers. Harry rubbed her back, draped his coat across her shoulders, and then left the room. She leaned forward, kissing her husband's forehead slowly. Tears dripped onto his face but he didn't mind. His fingers curled hard around hers, his jaw clenching with the effort. "You'll be just fine, Draco, just fine."

"You're a shit liar." His voice was hoarse and raspy and so unlike him that she almost flinched. Instead she forced herself to laugh before she fell victim to another round of tears. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Hush, don't be sorry, please, don't say that." She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed her mouth into his palm. "It's not your fault. It's okay."

"I am sorry." He heaved out a thick breath and she looked up from his hand to watch his own tears, as fat and thick as hers, roll over his cheeks. "I lied."

She moved to shake her head but another squeeze of his fingers stopped her.

"I don't have all the time in the world."

She kissed his palm again.

"And I'm sorry."

She shook her head in earnest, her hair falling loose from its confines at the nape of her neck. He smiled and wrested his hand from hers to run a curl through his fingers.

His breathing hitched and became shallow, his eyes darting frantically over each and every last detail of her face as if he was trying to memorize it in just a handful of seconds. His fingers closed around the curl in his grasp and she grabbed his wrist, her nails digging into his flesh as he tried to catch his breath. He sucked in a horribly weak gasp of air, his eyes clouding a little more as he stared directly into hers. She could barely see through her tears.

"I love you."

"I love you too." She gripped his wrist harder and his hand opened. She turned her head into it, pressing his palm to her cheek with one of her own hands until she felt the warmth leave his skin.

And then she tilted her head back and screamed.

* * *

_"It's okay, Mum. We know it's time."_

_ "Go, Mummy. Go. You've waited a long time to see Père."_

_ "We love you Mum. We always will."_

_ "It's okay Mummy. We'll be alright. Give Père two kisses for me."_

_ "Goodbye Mum. I love you."_

_ "I love you, Mummy, so much."_

* * *

"Well it bloody took you forever to get here."

"Forty three years is not forever, Draco."

"In this place, it feels like it." He pulled her close again, like they were dancing, and she noticed that he was just as beautiful here as he had been in life. She smiled and melted into his chest, her ear laying directly over his heart.

He ran a hand through her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"But now, for you, love, I've all the time in the world again."

* * *

**AN:** And that's the end of it. Sickeningly sweet but I can't stop smiling at it so...hopefully it wasn't too torturous for you. And also, hopefully, you'll tell me what you thought of it!


End file.
